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Mulindee

Kate
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“Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself. ” 
- Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

We really are hideous creatures, the scum of the world we live in. 
If we think we're above any other organism, or even the dirt beneath our feet, we are sorely mistaken. We live such peculiar lives now, dancing around the faux feelings of one another in such a way that there is now an etiquette for cruelty and malice. Such disgusting qualities are now readily accepted and encouraged in our society, to the point where it is nigh impossible to find truly good and selfless people. Those that do manage to embody some sort of goodness are crushed, destroyed, ended by those who have no tenderness within them.
I used to be one of those people. But as I grow older I feel withered, eroded away. In light of recent events, I'm not sure if I can say I embody such a kindness anymore. I am now dead, empty. A cold blooded by-product of the environment I live in, and I am ashamed to still be alive.
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Simulacrum

1 min read
“Life is for the living.
Death is for the dead.
Let life be like music. 
And death a note unsaid.” 
― Langston Hughs

I cannot help but smile, even if I am in more pain than I ever thought was humanly possible. 
Sometimes all it takes is one person to remind you of how beautiful the world is, to gently whisper to you that everything will be okay. 
I pass this whisper to you, my fellow artists. Encourage you to look at the world differently today, if only for today. 
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The Cold

2 min read
“I've never killed a man, but I've read many an obituary with a great deal of satisfaction.” 
― Clarence Darrow

Has been quite a while since I've been on here...
After Scott, what really sickened me was how much everything reminded me of how much I'd lost. I didn't even care that he was gone, that kid was easily the worst thing that corrupted my life. I missed most the love and care I'd put into things, my happiness, having someone to care for and care about me. For a while I was thoroughly convinced that I didn't need people to survive. But after that ordeal I'd been shown that I am indeed a social creature, and anyone who makes me feel the way he did deserves to be the loneliest of people. I haven't spoken to him or of him in at least 3 months, which I'd say is quite a feat for me. I used to be going days without sleep wishing he'd come back. But people come and people go, and he is gone now, so I once again get to be myself.
I've found that a lot of times, I don't let myself be.... myself. I put a quote on here a little while back, something along the lines of: "I am a stage on which many plays take place", and for the most part that is true. I'll shape and fashion myself into an image I think other want to see, with little dashes of personality here and there. Certain people have taught me that I can't be doing that. Not now, not ever. 
I think what makes me the most angry is that I let something so vile control me for as long as it did. I almost resent love for making me so blind. Forever the victim of the one sided affair...
On a totally different note, its cold. And it REALLY sucks. Whats worse: it gets worse. The cold I mean. Visiting Canada in a few weeks. California cold weather ----> Canada cold weather. If I don't make it back, let it be known that I am no longer classified as human, but a meat popsicle.
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Lessons

2 min read
"Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things." 
― Arthur SchopenhauerParerga and Paralipomena

There is no emptiness like the holes in one's heart that others strip away and claim for their own. All your love for others bleeds away as you try to remember what it felt like to be whole... what it felt like to smile, to cry. I cherish the pain and sorrow because it is a small and dark reminder that i am in fact capable of feeling... which is infinitely better than not feeling at all. 
As I go through life I'm constantly faced with the same sad fact: that I have to hide myself and wear a mask to survive. I guess I'm just too fluffy a person for the world to handle. WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT?! 
Ironically, this is the first time in the past month or so that I've actually felt okay. No you bastard, you haven't broken me. Imagine that :)
I started trying to write my story about the talking donut again... I really wish I understood all the chaotic madness that goes on in my head. 
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"The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains." 

More pain means more writing, and I have three at least halfway decent chapters to my book now. I thought about posting them here on deviant but i wanted to use some of the writing in an application to riot games as a design assistant. I'm not entirely sure if its safe to post all my work here >_> i wouldn't want someone to steal it... I have no idea how to copyright my work or anything either. 
In other news, thinking of school... again. My dad is "ecstatic" at the idea but I'm a little less than thrilled. We've been arguing about it a lot, but since working for him got me no where and I'm sort of stuck in this rivet, only thing left to do is to try and drag myself out. 
I love all my friends for telling me to keep my chin up and to keep going, even after what happened with scott, my dad, Debby and Barbara dying within a month of each other... But it doesn't fix it. It hurts now just as badly as it did before. I added scott to try and be his friend and he never talked to me again after i told him it hurt to talk to him cause i still loved him. Trying to teach yourself to let go is really hard. Specially when they were everything you cared about.
That being said...
is it okay to post my book here? or should I do anything before doing so rather?
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Featured

Black Blood of the Earth by Mulindee, journal

Simulacrum by Mulindee, journal

The Cold by Mulindee, journal

Lessons by Mulindee, journal

Blood in the water by Mulindee, journal